


Him

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis reviews potential omegas.





	Him

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis knows he really _should_ help Ignis with dinner—he’s not a child anymore, and Ignis’ isn’t even _his_ omega, not technically speaking. Even if he does consider Ignis mostly his anyway. Ignis might stay to eat, but he won’t stay to warm Noctis’ bed, and he’s not enough to satisfy the Crown.

Noctis justifies slinking off to his bedroom with the thought of just that: he will be doing royal duties. He changes into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt, something that he’d sleep in, and crawls under the covers of his unmade bed, but he’s not going to nap just yet. Ignis has been pestering him too much lately, and his father’s worse, not to mention Gladiolus and every other alpha he deals with. He knows he needs to pick an omega soon. He knows the Crown’s tired of him rejecting suitors. So he is going to gradually make his way through the enormous digital pile of applications, even though the Crown’s gotten desperate enough to open entry up to every eligible omega in Insomnia. Having already rejected all the nobles in person, Noctis is now down to the commoners—what the council considers the last dregs of society. 

Somehow, Noctis thought reading applications from everyday omegas, rather the ones groomed specifically to please noble partners, would be more fun. He imagined he’d find a variety of surprising, intriguing answers, and maybe even find several cute young things for him to play with. Instead, he’s summarily rejected over two hundred different applications over the course of the week.

He’s genuinely getting tired of skimming the boring paperwork. The applications aren’t long. They each come in three parts: pictures of their face and body in the same standard council-mandated poses, a brief summary of their medical histories and viability, and a short questionnaire. Noctis doesn’t even care about the pictures anymore. He’s only forwarded the ones with medical histories that were approved. And the questionnaires are all the same. They brag about sexual and domestic skills in the ‘what they can do for him’ section, fill out the three lines of ‘what they want for their future’ with some variation of ‘be a good omega and please the prince’, and in the free area, they spit out the exact same spiel in not-even-that-different words. While the delicious scent of homemade pasta sauce begins to filter into his bedroom, Noctis skims through more copy-and-paste omegas on his phone, rejecting dozens at a time.

Then, in his automatic scrolling from one page to another, a mostly blank paragraph catches his eye. Noctis does a double take, flipping back. For once, the top question isn’t over flowing with a plethora of generic offerings taking up all ten lines. Instead, there’s just one sentence: _Love him?_

Noctis blinks at the screen. He hesitates, then opens the picture files. An adorable blond with a smattering of freckles across his nose and big, blue eyes smiles sheepishly up at him. The omegas are all smiling in their photographs, usually trying to look sexy despite the limitations imposed in the application rules. This one just sort of looks like a dork who’d be a mess at kissing.

Something in Noctis’ gut stirs: he wants to kiss this omega anyway.

He tells himself that’s just his inner alpha talking and he’d fuck any of them if he got the chance. This isn’t about that. He needs to find someone he’d actually want to wake up to in the morning. 

He scrolls back to the questionnaire and reads the section about what Blondie wants. Each of the three lines has another singular sentence:

_1\. Be a professional photographer_   
_2\. Get on the ranking boards in King’s Knight_   
_3\. Give my alpha good head?_

Noctis actually snorts into his hand. He sits up straighter, quickly going down to the free section. This is where most omegas irritate him, trying so hard to ingratiate themselves to a man they’ve never met. Blondie wrote: _I know I won’t get picked anyway, but I think it’d be pretty cool if I did? Prince Noct seems like a fun guy. And he’s super hot. But uh... that won’t happen, so..._ Then there’s just a doodle of a chocobo wearing roller skates.

Noctis all but jumps out of bed. He rushes around the corner, bursting into the kitchenette, and announces to his retainer, “I did it. I found him.” It comes out in a slight rush, his voice raised—he knows he sounds breathless and excited, because he _is_. Ignis opens his mouth, clearly surprised, but Noctis is already calling his father’s office and telling whoever it is that just picked up: “This is Noctis. Bring me—” he pauses long enough to double-check the application, “Prompto Argentum— _now_!”


End file.
